


Search for Blue

by RatFlavored



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Catfishing, Cybersex, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexting, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-04-23 21:03:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19158937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatFlavored/pseuds/RatFlavored
Summary: There wasn't a part of Sam that Dean didn't know about. The parts Sam tried to hide? Dean would find a way to drown in.Sam could never find out Dean was catfishing him online. Not when they were getting so close.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Remember everything is right until it’s wrong. You’ll know when it’s wrong." - Ernest Hemingway
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much [Sintari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalSintari/profile) for helping with literally everything.

When they were kids, Dean was charged with keeping an eye on Sam. Although he wasn’t always consistent with this job - he'll never forget the Shtriga bending over Sam - as he got older Dean took the task a lot more seriously. Now, pushing 40, watching Sam was second nature. 

Sam Winchester was a man who liked to stick to routine, and Dean knew that routine like breathing. Sam would wake up early. Run every other day. Shower by seven thirty. He’d roll into the kitchen by eight, smelling like damp skin and Dove, leave by eight thirty to dive into research. 

Around noon, Sam would take a break and get something for lunch, stretch, read a couple chapters of a book; some grizzly true crime, and then back at it again with research. He’d grind away at it until nine, grab another bite to eat and then take it easy for the rest of the night. He’d say goodnight and head to his room. 

Dean inserted himself into Sam’s routine like a guitar easing in over a drum beat. Sometimes he’d get Sam out to the makeshift shooting range they had out back for some target practice. They'd shatter beer bottles with bullets under sunny skies. He’d make breakfast most mornings, and sometimes lunch, a plate landing in front of Sam's computer as he worked. 

Sometimes, instead of heading to his room, Sam would ask if Dean wanted to watch a movie or a show. 

Unlike in motel rooms where they could watch from a separate queen beds or even a couch, the bunker didn’t have a living room. They’d end up sitting on one of their beds, backs to the headboard and legs stretched out in the glow of seventies and eighties classic films.

It was usually Sam’s room; he had the TV. Dean loved being on Sam’s soft bed. He missed being in the same space where Sam slept. There was a vulnerability in being in someone else’s personal area, but that familiarity had been around for as long as Dean could remember. Sam's space was _his_ space. 

He wanted to keep it that way. 

Sam's TV was big and his bed was soft and had down pillows, but deep down, Dean liked it best when Sam laid in _his_. 

They had to sit closer, having to use the laptop instead. They'd set it between them and squeeze in, shoulders brushing, knees pressed together. Comfortable. Close. 

Sometimes toward the end of the night, Sam's eyelids would droop and his chin would dip down and Dean _wished_ he'd fall asleep like this. When Sam's head would lull to the side, Dean's chest would run over with affection. He wanted to scoot him down with gentle hands and tuck him right in. He wanted to casually fall asleep next to him. Doze off in the same bed again like when they were kids, or in the same car like when they were broke and on a hunt and the crinkle of rain on the roof would be their lullaby. Right where they belonged. 

But Sam would always twitch and jerk upright, murmur an apology and head off to his own room, leaving Dean with a lonely bottle of beer. 

That was fine though. He couldn't expect his thirty-five year old brother to want to sleep with him. 

"Have to maintain boundaries…" Dean muttered as he opened Sam's laptop. Sam was out on a run which meant he had only a half an hour to prowl through his web history and find juicy tidbits to tease him about. 

The laptop had been just sitting open in the library on the table. No password needed to unlock it. The temptation was too great to resist rifling through, like digging around in a girl's panty drawer. 

First things first, Dean changed the background to a picture of Justin Bieber. Needed to teach Sammy a lesson about leaving his stuff out. 

That should do it. The mental image of Sam's pissed off face was well worth it. 

Next up, web history. Dean scrolled through the web links. Skipping boring police reports and local news articles to get to the good stuff. He stopped when he found a link to Pornhub. Clicked on recent history. 

Titfucking. Blowjobs. Oh ho, lesbians! Sam had excellent taste-

 _Gay_?

He skidded to a stop. Full brakes. 

Gay section? 

Dean’s eyes flew over the page categories. Bareback, amateur, rough sex, bondage, big dick- 

His face flushed hot. _Sam was looking at this_? His Sam? Was Sam getting off to this? 

The timestamp read “Yesterday, 10:46pm” 

While Dean had been re-watching _Dirty Harry_ Sam was a couple rooms over, watching big dick gay porn. Jerking off in the same bed that Dean sat in less than an hour before as they finished up _Bronco Billy_. 

Dean’s mouth went dry. He swallowed. 

_Shoulda stayed-_

No. Not drunk enough to be having thoughts like that again-

The creak of the bunker door startled Dean and he jumped into action, closing out of the web history window and shutting the laptop. He snatched a book off the shelf and switched seats as quickly as he could to feign reading. He crossed a leg and leaned back to give himself a casual appearance. 

“Hey,” Sam greeted with a wave as he came down the stairs.

Dean kept his eyes on the book, “Hey.” His heart knocked against his rib cage. He flipped a page. With each awful step Sam made down the stairs, Dean’s brain screamed: _Gay, he’s gay. He’s into guys. He’s definitely dated girls, but guys, too? So bisexual. Has he dated a guy? Has he fucked a guy?_

Sam stopped when he reached the bottom of the staircase. “Were you on my computer?” 

Fuck. Dean crammed his thoughts to the side. He’d unpack all of that later, maybe. He been too casual; he never read unless he had to. Dean looked up and gave a slow blink. Sweat was beading on his forehead, almost as much as Sam after his run. “No?” 

As he strode over to the laptop, Sam heaved a sigh, “I told you to keep out of there. You always end up getting viruses- oh come on.” Sam gave Dean a dirty look and turned the laptop around to show the wallpaper. 

Ah shit. He left evidence that he actually had been on the computer. 

“Ha! Gotcha!” Dean laughed loudly, grinned. Kinda wished he didn’t do that prank now. “Didn’t know you were such a fan, Sammy.” 

“Really, Dean?” Sam gave the keyboard a couple harsh clacks as he glared and Dean gave up the book and held up his hands. 

“Can’t leave your stuff out.” He stood. Needed to turn tail before Sam suspected anything else. 

“I’ll make breakfast.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big ol' thank you to [Sintari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalSintari/profile) and [Satine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatinesHell/profile) for beta reading and fixing all my fuckups. I owe them my life.

Dean wanted to talk about it. He really did, but there was no way he could just bring up the topic out of the blue. 

His headphones tuned out the world as Rush's _Moving Pictures_ played in an attempt to soothe his restlessness. Since he couldn't sleep, he stared at the ceiling and listened to music. 

It wasn't that there was anything wrong with being bisexual. Not at all. Dean wasn't exactly straight himself. But Sam hadn't told him about his orientation, and somehow that felt like a betrayal. 

_Doesn't he trust me?_ Didn't Sam know that he would do anything for him? Dean had died for him several times over. It's not a big deal that that he wanted to fuck guys. 

But a winding unpleasant feeling in his stomach whispered that it kind of was a big deal. 

Dean wanted Sam happy. He knew Sam had always wanted a picket fence life, and even though Sam said he was fine living like they were now, Dean tried to make that dream as much of a reality as he could with the bunker. Theoretically, he was fine with the idea of Sam moving out with a girl someday, but if it was with a _guy_ -

That winding feeling clenched hard. 

Dean reached for his warm whiskey on the bedside table and took a swig with a grimace of teeth. It had been a long time since he'd thought about this sober. Sam was the only person who knew him inside and out. Dean wanted it to be a two way street. The urge to be close to him was more than just fraternal. It was messed up. Dean had those feelings buried deep down. Way down. Pushed down into the abyss. 

Only sometimes it reared its head when he was vulnerable. Dean always wiped away those dreams of the two of them as soon as he woke. 

Or now, when there was liquor on his lips and longing in his veins. 

 

\--- 

 

If there was one skill Dean had mastered in the emotions department, it was compartmentalization. 

And he was so goddamned curious about what sort of stuff Sam liked. Couldn’t help it. When they were younger, Dean used to pass on his old skin mags. Sam’s eyes would grow wide and he’d blush, but every time his hesitant hand would take the mag and Dean would smile knowingly, having dog-eared the best blondes just for Sam. It was the same thing. He just wanted to share. 

In a few days time, Sam headed out on a shopping run, Dean supposed it was a good time to look. 

With a beer next to him, Dean opened up Sam’s laptop again. Again, left in the library with no password protection. Sam never learned. 

He opened up the history again. 

A pang of guilt was immediately squashed out. It was just simple curiosity. He’d shared his porn with him for decades, it’s only fair that he got to look, too. 

Seemed like Sam frequented porn sites fairly regularly. Unlike Dean, he kept to the same few trusted names, mostly Pornhub. Probably why he didn’t get his computer overloaded with viruses all the time. 

The timestamp wasn’t important (yesterday, 11:19pm, right after Sam left Dean’s room), but Dean took notice of how often Sam looked up dirty shit. For all the shit Sam gave him about being a porn addict, he was jerking off every other day. Dean snorted, hypocrite. 

The more links he clicked on, Dean found out Sam had a preference. Amateur. Of course Sam would like things that were natural, organic. A real connection with two people opposed to plastic over-the-top pornos. 

The two guys on screen shared a kiss. Eyes closed, drawn out, a hint of a smile before one rolled over- 

Dean clicked away and scrolled through the history again. 

He glanced at the clock. It was late afternoon. He had a little while left. Luckily, the shopping list he gave Sam was long. 

There was a website he was unfamiliar with. M4M.com. He clicked and he was greeted with a banner of two men holding hands with the words _Find him, find love_ written at the top. A dating website. Dean’s insides felt sour. Sam was actually actively searching for guys to date? His mouth formed a thin line. 

Luckily for Dean, Sam left his account logged in. LucienMidnight? Dean pulled a face. What a stupid fucking username. What the actual fuck? Dean made a move to click on it-

Paused.

Checking website history was one thing, poking around a personal account was another. He was crossing so many new boundaries here. The urge to see what his brother was up to was under his skin and pounding, wanting to sink his hands into every hidden piece of Sam-

Dean closed the browser. 

He leaned back in the chair and scrubbed both hands over his face. It was tempting, but he couldn’t allow himself to just dig into Sam’s private dating account. 

But he could make one of his own. 

 

\---

 

Now that he was on his own computer, Dean felt much more comfortable. He didn’t feel like he had to keep looking over his shoulder. Sam was in his own room now, retiring early after Dean filled him up with chicken parmesan. 

Dean made a login for m4m and felt safe to snoop around the website. There was a dating section of course, full of guys of varying caliber. There was also a forum with topics ranging from gardening to hook-up requests. 

He searched Sam’s username and checked his activity. It wasn’t surprising to see that Sam was active in the forum section. There were a significant amount of posts in the “Advice” section. 

“Is it okay if I haven’t dated in years?”

“What do guys look for in other guys?” 

“Should I come out to my brother?” 

Dean clicked on that one. Sam had given a brief and vague description of their relationship as brothers, and the other members had given resounding approval to come out. They were encouraging him. So why hadn’t Sam told him?

Seemed like Sam needed someone to talk to. A venomous whisper asked why he wasn’t good enough. 

He went back to Sam’s main page. There were a decent amount of pictures, Most were pre or post workout pics, one shirtless. His big smile was there, but the focus was clearly on his chest, deliciously damp with sweat. Dean lingered on that one for a long moment. 

There was a green dot next to Sam’s username. He was online. 

> _NightRanger:_ Hey 

Ah shit, what a great opener. Dean wasn’t even finished setting up his profile, no pictures yet or anything. Why would Sam even message him back? This was stupid-

> _LucienMidnight:_ Hey NightRanger.  
>  Are you like a cowboy or something  
>  Or do you just like Night Ranger that much? 
> 
> _NR:_ They’re a good band!  
>  And your username sounds like a vampire. Are you a vampire or something?  
>  Are you team Edward or team Jacob? 

Dean hit enter with a smirk, but it dropped when Sam shot back: 

> _LM:_ It’s 2019. Making fun of Twilight stopped being cool in 2012.  
>  And no. It’s a reference to a book.  
>  Sounds like you don’t read much. 

Dean rocked back in his chair, causing the old leather to creak. Even through the internet, Sam was roasting him. _Fuck._

> _NR:_ I read the articles in playboy, that count? 
> 
> _LM:_ Lol, hell yeah it counts. And for the record, I do like Night Ranger.  
>  So you privately messaged me. I take it you’re here for something. 

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. For some reason, he expected his little brother to be a novice online, but Sam knew his way around the block. What was he here for really? Dean wasn’t ready to admit it. Sam was asking him bluntly, and Dean decided just to go with it.

> _NR:_ I guess I am. 
> 
> _LM:_ Okay, so not to be rude, I’m just being up front about this, but I’m not interested in meeting irl. I don’t have time for dating right now.  
>  But I do have time for pics. Send me one? 

He raked a hand over his middle as he thought it over. He was thinking with his cock here. This was his chance. Dean knew this was crossing a line that he wouldn’t be able to step back from. There would be no going back, no pretending this was just some game if he got caught. 

But he wanted to know. He licked his lips. 

Maybe he could do this just this once, then forget it happened. 

Dean pulled off his shirt. 

With a click of his camera phone, he snapped a picture of his midsection. Couldn’t reveal too much. Sam would know it was him. Before he could hesitate again, Dean sent it over. 

> _NR:_ Sorry no face, I’m kinda shy. 

A long couple minutes ticked by as Dean waited for a reply. He fidgeted with his phone, turning on and off the display as he kept checking the time. Was he afk? Did he even get the pic? An uncomfortable weight settled heavy in his stomach. The picture wasn’t the highest quality, and the background wasn’t visible, but what if Sam somehow recognized him? How would he even begin to explain-

With a blip, a message came through.

> _LM:_ Holy shit. You look good. 

Dean brought a hand to his face to rub at his reddening cheeks. Sam thought he looked good. Dean was used to brotherly teasing, not bold compliments. He was used to women and men in bars saying things about how hot he was, but not Sam. A dark part of his brain felt satisfied. A hunger was fed. Sam found him attractive. 

> _NR:_ Yeah? 
> 
> _LM:_ Yeah.  
>  Can I have another? 
> 
> _NR:_ Just a sec 

Dean lined up his phone for another picture. This time, he decided to give him a little treat. He snagged his thumb in the belt loop of his jeans and pulled down. Just enough to let them ride temptingly low. 

Sent.

> _LM:_ Wow.  
>  I could look at this all day. 
> 
> _NR:_ Gimmie one 
> 
> _LM:_ You want a pic? 
> 
> _NR:_ Fuck yeah I do. 
> 
> _LM:_ I’ll give you something better. 

A video request popped up on his screen. Dean’s eyebrows shot up. Video. Holy shit. If he clicked on it, Sam might be undressed. He was potentially gonna see Sam naked. With anyone else he would feel cool and confident, but since it was Sam, everything was different. Dean felt like a teenage boy again, getting his hand under a girl’s skirt for the first time beneath the bleachers. Something he’d wanted for a long time, but had no idea how to get. Unattainable until it finally happened. 

His heart was thudding heavy. 

Dean opened the video. 

Sam had all of his clothes on. He felt flicker of a disappointment, but that fizzled away when Sam flashed a big smile. It wasn’t often he had that smile directed at him. Sunlight. Dean found himself smiling back. Ah, he loved that smile. 

> _NR:_ Not fair  
>  Take it off. 

Dean watched as Sam rubbed a lazy hand up his shirt, lifting just barely to show a sliver of midsection. The other hand was on the keyboard. 

> _LM:_ Oh?  
>  How much do you want off? 

Dean bit his lower lip. 

> _NR:_ Start with the shirt. 

Without hesitation, Sam pulled his shirt over his head. He took a moment to lean back again, pulling his shoulders back to feign popping his back, but in reality Dean knew Sam was just showing off his workout efforts. Sam kept in great shape, muscles curving and contracting gorgeously under skin. There had been times that Dean had caught him leaving the shower, or half awake and half dressed in the morning, but now he was allowed to look openly. 

> _LM:_ I’ll take off the pants if you put on your cam too. 

This was another risk, but Dean found himself willing to take it. It took him a minute to figure out how to work the cam. He made sure it was on mute, and he was careful to keep his face and tattoo out of frame. Sam would be able to see part of his chest down to his upper thighs. 

Dean sent the feed to Sam. It was opened immediately. He watched as Sam leaned in, eyes glancing slightly lower than the camera, flitting across the screen. Dean shifted, unsure of what to do. He could see Sam’s eyes change, pupils getting wider. Sam’s lips parted. He looked eager.

God it felt so good to have Sam’s focus on him like this. Sam wanted him just by seeing his body. 

> _LM:_ Do you have a mic? 

Uh.

> _NR:_ No. It doesn’t work right. Sorry. 
> 
> _LM:_ That's fine. I have one, but we can just keep talking like this.  
>  You’re hot. 
> 
> _NR:_ Thank you, please vote for me in the next elections. 

Dean grinned as he heard Sam bark out a laugh, both through the mic and from down the hall. 

> _LM:_ Okay, hot AND funny. 
> 
> _NR:_ Well, you’re just the type of guy who knows quality when he sees it.  
>  Now about those pants… 

To Dean’s surprise, Sam stood, giving him a full view of his hips. It felt like he was viewing this through a peephole in a locker room. A secret show, just for him. Long fingers took their time undoing his belt, tugging down the zipper. Dean leaned forward, eyes taking it in. God, if he could just touch. Grab those hips and press his mouth- And Sam’s pants fell to the floor. 

Blue boxer briefs. The outline of Sam’s erection reached almost to his hip. Dean figured he’d be big with his large frame and all, but damn. Sam ran his thumbs under the band, pulling at the elastic and Dean’s fingers flew to the keyboard.

> _NR:_ Off.  
>  Come on.  
>  Let me see. 

A chuckle from the laptop speakers and Sam was tugging down those boxer briefs. _Jesus._ Dean’s mouth went dry. As soon as Sam kicked off his underwear, he sat back down and his hand was on his cock, thumbing at the head. Dean reached for his own cock, palming it through his pants. 

> _LM:_ now you 

Dean huffed a laugh. It was kinda hard to do proper punctuation with only one hand. Dean leaned back and shucked off his pants and underwear in one move. He wasn’t the most vain guy, but he knew he looked good. Kept entirely bare down there. 

> _LM:_ you’re pretty 
> 
> _NR:_ yeah and youre fuckin hung 

Sam’s eyes grew darker and he started stroking himself. Oh? So he liked comments about his big cock? Dean followed suit and started jerking off, eyes glued to Sam’s cockhead. He was leaking so much precome. So much of it. Kept spreading it over the thick tip. He imagined how it would feel between his lips. Wet, and heavy, and hot. He’d tease it, just the head. Make his little brother _beg_ for it-

With his hand on his cock Dean felt braver, more open, dirtier. 

> _NR:_ wanna suck you 

Dean growled at the reaction he got. Sam’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment and his head tipped back, jaw hanging slack. _Yeah, thats it Sammy._ He waited until Sam had gathered himself to look at the computer again. 

> _NR:_ wanna fill my mouth up with it  
>  make you beg for it  
>  beg me to deep throat it 

“Please.”

The plea snuck through the speakers and punched Dean right in the gut. Sam groaned aloud and Dean knew this would be over quick. 

> _NR:_ wouldn't be easy.  
>  but you’d kinda like that wouldn't you  
>  hot guy choking on your cock 

“Please, oooh please-” Sam sounded wrecked, his deep voice rumbling, shaking. Dean had never heard him like this. All needy and desperate after a little dirty talk. 

> _NR:_ i’m close  
>  watch 

Sam’s hand was flying over his cock, and his eyes glued to the screen. 

On some level, he knew that Sam wasn’t technically getting off on _him_. He was just a stranger on the internet with a body and a bit of a personality. But Sam was getting off on watching him, and on a base level it was so gratifying that it was _his_ words and _his_ body that Sam was using. 

Dean saw him mouth the words, just barely breathe them out, “Yeah, that's it. Come.” 

And it was all over. Dean’s hips bucked upward jerkily, fucking into his fist as he toppled over that edge. 

As his muscles relaxed, Dean watched as Sam followed suit. Chest heaving and muscles bunching as he hit peak. Dean watched as Sam kept his hand jerking low on his cock and out of the line of fire, letting come fly upward toward his chest, over that shared tattoo. He watched as Sam glanced down, mouth open and panting as he used his fingertips to rub it in. 

Dean’s heart did a flip and his stomach dropped simultaneously. He shut the laptop. Wiped off his guilt smeared hand. 

He shouldn’t have done this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the format for texting a bit. I found [this](https://alexseanchai.tumblr.com/post/186877013235/whats-a-good-way-to-formatting-texting-in-a-fic) method and loved it! I hope it reads more smoothly.
> 
> As always, a big thank you to [Sintari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalSintari/profile) and [Satine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatinesHell/profile) for beta reading. They do a wonderful job helping me polish everything up.

Bacon sizzled on the hot pan in front of him, but Dean’s mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop picturing way Sam’s head leaned back when it was too much, his bare throat on display. The way he looked at the screen, eyes heavy with want. Like he _needed_ Dean-

Full stop. Right here. 

He turned the bacon over. Dean needed to keep things normal. If he gave himself away, it would be over. Sam would fucking hate him. They had come back from so many things, but this would be damn near irreparable. 

When Sam sauntered into the kitchen with sleep still in his legs, Dean’s eyes dipped down to the wavy black lines of ink that peeked out from the top of Sam’s burgundy tank top. The way he rubbed it in-

“Breakfast is almost done.” Dean cut off his own train of thought again. Sam’s hand scratched at his stomach sleepily, and Dean pulled his eyes away and back to the pan. 

“I can smell it.” Sam said through a yawn. “Eggs and bacon.” 

Dean pulled the bacon out and fixed two plates. Sam was playing with his phone when Dean set a plate in front of him, and he got a murmured thanks. 

Dean poured a steaming cup of coffee and sat down across from his brother. Time to pretend everything was alright. 

This was fucked up. He shouldn’t be lying like this. 

Dean felt a buzz in the pocket of his robe and took out his phone as he shoved a forkful of eggs in his mouth. He froze mid chew. He forgot he had his phone hooked up to the dating website. _LucienMidnight_ had sent him a message.

> _LM:_ Good morning.  
>  Last night was good.  
> 

Dean froze.

He should delete the account. 

But... 

Sam was fidgeting. He poked around at his half eaten bacon and he kept glancing at his phone on the table. Kept unlocking it and checking, then closing it again. Kept looking over and waiting. 

Sam was anxious over him. He was waiting for him to reply. 

It felt good to be the center of his world. 

Dean couldn’t just leave it like this, like some cheap one night stand. And well, he _wanted_ to reply. Dean wanted to hold tight onto that connection, both hands. He was finally getting a peek into that big brain of Sam’s, into parts that he kept secret. Those were parts that he shouldn’t pry into, shouldn’t touch, but the compulsive need to know everything and to be a part of _everything_ that Sam was had a powerful hold on him.

And the way Sam was looking at his phone, expecting a reply. It was like Sam was asking for something, and Dean could never say no. 

He put his phone on mute. 

Couldn't have Sam catching on. He was right here. 

> _NR:_ Morning. How’s it going?  
>  Yeah it was good. Sorry I left quick. Knocked me right out. 

Dean put his phone away and Sam’s lit up. Sam reached for it, lips pursing to conceal a smile as he read the message. His thumbs flew over the screen as he typed. It was tempting to watch, but Dean pretended not to notice, observing out of the corner of his eye as he ate. 

Even if his heart was thumping away, Dean needed to keep his composure as Sam bit his lower lip and smiled. Ah shit, this was going to be hard. It was one thing to be in another room from him, but seeing Sam react to his words in person was a whole different challenge. 

Dean felt another buzz, but this time he waited a few minutes to reply. He needed to keep on the down low about this. If Sam suspected anything it would be over. 

Meanwhile, Sam took a couple more bites of breakfast. It was satisfying to see Sam enjoy something Dean personally cooked. There was an urge to take care of Sam, and cooking filled that void. If Sam would let him, Dean would cater to everything. He’d feed him, wash him down, rub his shoulders, brush his hair. Oh, he’d gripe about how he needed a haircut, but he would love to run his fingers through that smooth hair of his. Almost had before, when it looked sunkissed in the summer light- 

“It’s good,” Sam murmured. 

“Yeah,” Dean replied groggily, snapping himself out of the fantasy. He took a drink of coffee as he pulled out his phone, wincing. Still too hot. 

> _LM:_ Lol, good to hear it was good for you too. Glad you liked it.  
>  It’s going good. My brother made bacon and eggs and they’re awesome.  
>  He and I usually wake up early. I run every other day and he makes breakfast.  
>  You a morning person too? 
> 
> _NR:_ You could say that I am. Bacon and eggs sound great. You’re lucky to have such a nice brother.
> 
> _LM:_ I wouldn’t call him nice, but he and I are really close. He likes classic rock too. He’d like your handle. 
> 
> _NR:_ Sounds like a cool guy. You like classic rock too? 
> 
> _LM:_ Yeah most of it. I like a lot of different stuff though.
> 
> _NR:_ Like what? 

And just like that, they started talking. 

It was so easy to talk to him like this. No past, no history. No worrying about cases, or apocalypses, or demons, or angels. Just them. Talking about music. Movies. TV shows. 

Of course Dean knew all the answers already. Or at least he thought he did. 

> _NR:_ Your favorite gangster movie is really King of New York?
> 
> _LM:_ Yeah, it was good! 
> 
> _NR:_ Yeah it was good, but it’s your favorite? Like all time? 
> 
> _LM:_ Yeah, so? 
> 
> _NR:_ There's Goodfellas, The Godfather 
> 
> _LM:_ Okay 
> 
> _NR:_ Scarface? Scarface is for sure better than King of New York 
> 
> _LM:_ Okay I take it back, Scarface is my favorite.  
>  I just love Laurence Fishburne, okay? 
> 
> _NR:_ Thats fair. Who doesn’t? 
> 
> _LM:_ Sometimes I feel like the last person alive who still loves The Matrix.
> 
> _NR:_ No you’re absolutely not. I liked them all.  
>  Even the third one. 
> 
> _LM:_ Holy shit. They were all good. 
> 
> _NR:_ I haven’t watched them in years. I wonder if the effects still hold up. 
> 
> _LM:_ They came out when I was in college.  
>  Watched them all with a guy I was seeing. 

Dean sat up where he was lounging in bed, Zeppelin on low, and squinted at his phone. A guy Sam was “seeing.” Like dating. Dean’s lips thinned and his eyes narrowed. Sam had dated guys before? Never told him. 

> _NR:_ So you were out in college? 
> 
> _LM:_ Not exactly. Dated just one guy.  
>  Who doesn’t experiment in college lol? 
> 
> _NR:_ Never went. Got my GED and street smarts.  
>  Does your brother know? 
> 
> _LM:_ No…  
>  There’s a lot I can’t tell my brother. 
> 
> _NR:_ Why? Do you think he’s homophobic?  
>  Why can’t you tell him?
> 
> _LM:_ No, not at all. He’s not like that.  
>  I just can’t. I can’t explain it. 

Bullshit answer Sam. Dean’s jaw felt stiff and he unclenched it. There was no way he could keep pressing this topic without seeming suspicious. Dean hated that there was something Sam felt like he couldn’t tell him. 

> _LM:_ It doesn’t matter. I haven’t been with a guy in a long time.  
>  Last one I was with turned out pretty bad in the end actually.  
>  Brady was a piece of shit. He wasn't who he said he was. 

Fucking _Brady_? Dean threw his phone on the bed and laid back, scrubbing  
his hands over his face. Jesus christ. That's another part of the reason Sam want Brady all those years ago. Dean had had to physically hold him back by the shoulders to keep Sam from ripping him to shreds. 

Brady was handsome, blond, college educated. Objectively, Dean could see why Sam liked him. That sharp smile though, and knowing the lie that lurked behind it. Brady said he had been a demon the entire time. His hands balled into fists. Made Dean wanna punch his teeth out now, too. 

> _LM:_ That was a long time ago. I haven’t had a long term relationship in years.  
>  I mean, I’ve had relationships with people other than him, there was a girl but she passed away, and then another girl, but it’s been a long time.  
>  I’m babbling here.  
>  Hbu?
> 
> _NR:_ I haven’t had a long term anyone, let alone a boyfriend.  
>  I dated a woman for a while. A year actually. Had to break that off because of work. 

It wasn’t just work. It was because of Sam. Dean’s world was thrown into his brother’s orbit again, like a comet hurling in from t he depths of the solar system and getting trapped in gravity. Inescapable. 

Dean didn’t like to think about Lisa and how he left her. It hurt. He hoped she and Ben were out there somewhere happy, the memory of him washed away like a dirty stain. 

> _NR:_ I still miss her sometimes. But there's no way to go back now. 
> 
> _LM:_ That sucks. I totally get it. 

Sam went through something similar with Amelia. 

Last time they discussed serious relationships, Dean threatened to punch Sam in the face. Over the years it had gotten easier to talk to him, but they hadn’t even come close to touching this. This was magic. Dean found himself opening up so easy. 

He actually wanted to talk to Sam about it, now that the wounds had calloused over. Sam was understanding, level headed, and had been through something similar. 

Dean looked at the message again. Theoretically he could physically go to Sam’s room and talk to him, but there was no way he could bring it up, and Sam knew never to touch the topic. The reason he held back was because that veil of anonymity would be gone. Sam would see how he really felt. The only reason he was opening up it was because he wore a mask. 

Kinda wished he could take it off. 

 

\--- 

 

Dean was trying to focus, but he just couldn't. Sam had read a couple news articles about recent drowning and was researching water spirits. The book Dean was supposed to be reading only served as a shield as he peered over the top of it at Sam. Long fingers were flipping through pages and jotting down notes like the A+ student Dean knew he was . Dean was supposed to be helping with research, which is why they had spent half the day in the library. But his mind was elsewhere. 

_There’s a lot I can’t tell by brother._

Fuckin’ hated that. 

This was something Sam had should have told him ages ago. Not a big deal. 

Not like he could really come out to Sam either though. There was this mold that Dad made for him, and Dean had always had to squeeze to fit. Macho, womanizing, strong. Why couldn’t bisexual be a part of that? It’s 2019 and gay marriage is legal. There was really no way to feel like he needed to hide anything. They’d met other hunters, couples even-

“What?”

Dean blinked and found Sam was watching him, brow dipped low in concern. Caught.

“What?” Dean cleared his throat and straightened his book. 

“You were just staring at me. What's up?” 

Dean wanted to tell him. He would finally let Sam know. Then, Sam would probably admit he had a similar inclination and they’d be good. It would be over. That's all this was about anyway, right? His curiosity. 

His mouth opened. He was standing on the edge of a cliff, toes off the lip of rock as he stared down at the foamy sea below. 

His heart leapt up and lodged itself in his windpipe. 

“What's up Dean?” Sam carefully set his book down on the table, his focus entirely on him. Sometimes Dean could swear Sam could see straight through him. Just by looking at him, Sam could reach right under that shell and pull at the sharp little parts of him until he came undone. 

Dean wanted to say something. 

Hesitated. 

His face muscles moved, lifting his lips into a smile, “The ceiling. My blood pressure. Someone’s legs. I hope they’re having more fun than us.”

A brief smile tugged at Sam’s mouth, but Dean could tell it was put on as well. Sam’s eyes drifted downard and away as the smile dropped, and Dean’s stomach sank. He hated disappointing him. 

“Alright. If you don’t wanna tell me, that's fine-”

“Tell you what?”

“-but I just want you to know I’m here if you wanna talk.” 

Dean’s jaw clicked closed. Sam was here if _he_ wanted to talk? When Sam was the one keeping shit from him? 

“And if _you_ ever want to tell _me_ anything, I’m here to listen. And if you ever need anyone to braid that hair of yours-”

“Dean-”

“You know how I love our girl time.”

“Okay fine.” Sam held up his hands. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

Those defenses were raising up higher. He hated when they kept shit from each other.

If any of those other hunters asked, Dean wouldn’t hide it. But it was different with Sam. 

With Sam it felt like he was admitting something else entirely. Like all those times he stopped himself from kissing the top of his head when Sam fell asleep in his bed. Or the times when he turned down the radio to a gentle murmur when he noticed Sam fell asleep in the passenger side. Or how he’d let Sam squeeze his shoulder hard enough to bruise when he had to stitch up his middle after a vamp sliced him-

“I’m gonna go get a six pack,” Sam stood from the table, “I’ll be right back.” 

 

\---

 

Twenty minutes later, Sam called him.

“Hey. Got a call from Jody. She has some books that I’m gonna borrow. I’ll be back late tonight.” 

“Cool. Let me know if you find anything. Drive safe.” 

 

\---

 

> _LM:_ Hey. How’s your day going? 
> 
> _NR:_ Eh. Kinda boring. Hbu? 
> 
> _LM:_ Got called into work. I have to drive today.
> 
> _NR:_ What do you do for a job?  
>  Don’t text and drive!
> 
> _LM:_ I stopped for gas don’t worry.  
>  I’m a lawyer.

 

\---

 

“Hey Dean. Gonna be later than I thought. Jody has a case going down here and I’m gonna help.”

“Want me to get over there?”

“Nah, I can handle it. It’s just one werewolf.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I got this. No problem.”

 

\---

 

> _NR:_ What kind of lawyer? 
> 
> _LM:_ Violent crimes. 
> 
> _NR:_ Oh? Strong sense of justice? 
> 
> _LM:_ You could say that. I like to help people. I like to get rid of monsters.
> 
> _NR:_ Sounds like something I could get behind. 
> 
> _LM:_ Speaking of things to get behind, send me something.  
>  It’s gonna be a long drive…
> 
> _NR:_ You can’t jerk off and drive at the same time. 
> 
> _LM:_ Wanna see? 
> 
> _NR:_ Yeah.  
>  Show me 

An image message popped up on Dean’s phone. He opened it to find a picture of Sam leaning back on the leather seats of the impala. Torso shot. One arm was extended and out of shot, presumably holding onto the wheel, Sam’s other hand was low, gripped around a thick bulge in his jeans. _Jesus_. 

Dean ran a hand through his hair. He should let Sam drive more often. 

> _NR:_ Wouldn’t mind helping you out with that.  
>  I’d lean down, take it out.
> 
> _LM:_ yeah? 
> 
> _NR:_ But you shouldn’t be doing this and driving.  
>  Aren’t you working on a case? 
> 
> _LM:_ yeah 
> 
> _NR:_ Don’t text and drive. We’ll talk when you’re done. 

 

\---

 

“Hey. Just finished up here.” Sam’s voice through the receiver sent relief washing over Dean. It had been hours since he’d last heard from him. 

“Could you have called any later?” Dean glanced at the red light of his analog clock. 3:38 am. He wasn’t sleeping anyway. He never slept well when Sam was on a case alone. “Could have texted earlier with an update or something.” 

“Sorry, that werewolf turned out to be three.” 

“Three?” Dean’s stomach dropped. It always turned out like this. “I should have been there.”

“We handled it.” Dean heard Sam hiss over the phone. 

“What happened?” 

“Just got a little scraped up-”

“How scraped up? Where are you?” 

“Dean, I’m fine. I’m in a motel. I’ve sewn myself up before.” 

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a sigh. This wouldn’t have happened if he’d been there. They were always better together. 

Sam could read his mind, even from miles away, “I thought it was just gonna be a book run. Next time it turns into a bigger thing, I’ll call you sooner.” 

Sam could get defensive about this. Dean and dad used to do this sort of shit to Sam all the time when he was a kid. They’d run off to kick some monster’s teeth in while Sam waited alone, worried and miles away. But instead Sam’s low voice was soothing. He understood how stressful it was to have his brother far away and hurt. 

He understood. Although he was alone in his bed in the middle of the night, Dean felt like Sam was with him. 

“Okay,” the fire had left his voice. Dean knew he probably sounded tired, rumbling, “Patch yourself up good and get some rest. I wanna hear how you kicked three werewolf's asses tomorrow. Gimmie a call when you’re up.” 

“I’ll do that. Goodnight, Dean.” 

“Night.” 

Sleep would come easy now. But two minutes after he closed his eyes, his phone vibrated. 

> _LM:_ It’s late, but I’m done.
> 
> _NR:_ Yeah it’s late. Holy shit. 
> 
> _LM:_ Had a shitty day at work :( 

Dean huffed out a laugh. Yeah, getting mauled by a werewolf sounded pretty fucking shitty. 

> _NR:_ That sucks man. 
> 
> _LM:_ You know what would make it suck less? 
> 
> _NR:_ What? 

An image appeared in the chatbox. Dean opened it. Sam’s lower half, taken from face height. Behind Sam, Dean could see a cheap motel bed, but the garish blue and yellow sheets couldn't distract him from the main event. Dean could see right down his abs, showing off all that hard work. The line of muscle led straight down to the focus of the picture, the outline of his thick cock stretching red boxer briefs tight. 

> _LM:_ A little alone time 

There was a touch of unease. Not only was Sam freshly stitched up, but Dean knew that he shouldn’t be doing this again. This was already out of hand. That one time should have been it. Even though it was almost 4 am, and he was exhausted, seeing Sam hot and hard for him made Dean respond. Sam was always so horny for him. 

He loved to see that uptight little brother of his send him dirty pics. 

> _LM:_ Send me something  
>  I want some inspiration  
>  I wanna see you 

Dean wanted to resist. But Sam was right there, begging for a glimpse of Dean’s body to make his lonely hand feel sweeter. 

He couldn’t just ghost him now. Not when Sam had a long day and and looked painfully hard. 

Dean reached for his bedside lamp and angled his camera phone, keeping anything identifying out of shot. 

Next time he’d try to hold out, try to keep these kind of interactions at bay, Dean lied to himself as he held his cock upright for the best view.

Next time.


End file.
